


Old money

by orangelemon (etoilephilante)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Early 20th century setting, Forbidden Love, M/M, a lil angst, i guess??, i wish i knew what tf is this, if you squint very Very hard it's a gatsby au, well i had this in mind while writing but didn't really mention it either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:07:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29920095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilephilante/pseuds/orangelemon
Summary: Kim Hongjoong's skin, the same color as the sand on which they are sitting, is burning under Choi Jongho's fingertips.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kim Hongjoong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Old money

**Author's Note:**

> huuuuuuuuuh yesterday at 11pm i decided to write a jongjoong drabble medieval au for my peace of mind and then fell asleep. and it ended not being a medieval au.......... the setting is quite ambiguous i just wrote for the sake of writing without any purpose.... it's a little sad... and i had the early 20th century and the great gatsby in mind while writing....... i have no idea what exactly this is tho
> 
> enjoy if you do read. perhaps one day i will write a jongjoong gastby au but like with a plot and characterization lol who knows
> 
> i wrote listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkqtUjAi8OQ&t=543s) if it gets you in the mood

Kim Hongjoong's skin, the same color as the sand on which they are sitting, is burning under Choi Jongho's fingertips. He kisses him, feather-like, on his round, reddening shoulders, once... then on his prominent shoulder blades, twice... on the joint of his neck, one last time. He tastes like the sun. Hongjoong sighs as he feels Jongho's mouth against him, his gaze riveted to the vast, never-ending sea. It has the same color as turquoise, its blue melting into the sky, cloudless.

“What are you thinking about?” Jongho asks, feeling Hongjoong's melancholia in the tense muscles under his fingertips.

Hongjoong takes a few seconds before gathering his thoughts, breathing in the salty air of the beach through his nose and then exhaling. “I am thinking of a better world, one in which you could love me. And I could love you.”

Jongho rests his cheek against Hongjoong's spine and wraps his steady arms around him. “But I do. I do love you, and you love me, as well,” he whispers, with this gentle, nearly childish voice of his that he uses whenever he gets stubborn.

“You know what I mean, Jongho.”

The silence that weighs on them is as heavy as the scorching hot sunbeams.

They have run away – not for long, not forever, enough time to feel like they are the only two humans left in their universe. It is pointless, but they do not want to think about it.

“Here, in our own world, we are allowed to. Do not tire yourself with useless worries,” Jongho eventually speaks up again.

The cool, salty gust of wind that blows on them is relieving against their sunburned skin.

Hongjoong turns around, smiling with mischief that hides his yearning for another life, and faces the younger boy. Jongho watches him, his round eyes wide open and filled with love and reverence, his brows creased on his bare forehead, his reddish hair pushed back but a few strands flying everywhere, his lips dried by the coast's peculiar air. He looks ever younger than he usually does when they are at home.

“Shall we go for a swim?”

Jongho grins, his red gums easily revealed – which is rare, out in the open like so. Though he smiles a lot, it is always diplomatic and controlled, whereas Hongjoong, the troublemaker, never hesitates to wear his emotions on his sleeves. The redhead takes Hongjoong's hands in his, his thick, calloused fingers tight around the other's longer, thinner ones, and pulls him up with him.

They walk side by side, hands locked, on the burning sand, both of them wincing as they feel like they are stepping on fire until their steps become quicker and quicker and soon, they are running into the calm sea. They both sigh at once when they dip the sole of their feet into the water, its freshness even more delightful.

It is noon, the sun is particularly vicious.

Jongho hasn't rid himself of his linen shirt, though it is entirely unbuttoned and leaves his golden, glistening with sweat chest naked, and the splashes of water soak the cloth's hem until it is almost see-through. Hongjoong wraps two arms around the younger boy's torso when he stumbles backward with a boom of laughter and drags Jongho with him underwater.

“Want to get rid of me by drowning me?” Jongho teases when they are back on their feet, his beautiful hair suddenly wet and soggy, dripping salty droplets on his cheeks.

They are both holding each other. Hongjoong chuckles and tiptoes – his feet sink deeper and deeper in the sand, tickling him in between his toes – to kiss the redhead on the corner of the grin that splits his round face.

“Perhaps. I would take all your money and run away with your beautiful car, away from it all, far, far, far...” his words become a drawl as he tilts his head back and offers a blissful smile at the sky, blinding himself with its brightness.

Jongho mouths a kiss against the fair throat that is exposed to him, tasting the seawater on Hongjoong's skin. “I would give it to you, I would give it all to you,” he murmurs huskily, promises filling his tone.

“I will take it all, I want it all, your love.”

The wish is more of a sigh thrown at the sky, but Jongho hears all the same, and aches. “You have it entirely, it's yours.”

Hongjoong is a married man. He is a married man who is trapped in a loveless union, a marriage that has been arranged to make the wealthy wealthier. Jongho is a free man, who has no tie to a family name, who can do whatever he wants, a myth that has lived many lives in the mouths of the souls that know of his name.

Hongjoong cannot take Jongho's love, nor give his to him. But they pretend they can, sometimes, they destroy themselves with the illusion, the mirage of a bubble they have created around themselves.

A moan spills past Hongjoong's lips and flies with the wind when Jongho's tongue grazes his collarbones and sends shivers through his spine, makes him dig his toes into the sand underwater.

Soon, they will have to come back into the city, go back to old college friends as if they have not grown with their hearts devoted to the other. Hongjoong will smile at his wife and tell her of a fake business trip, while Jongho will be waiting in his impressive estate until his lover can run away from his home again.

But as of now, Jongho runs possessive fingers into Hongjoong's wet blonde hair and kisses him like they are free, like he has been hungry for his mouth; the older boy reciprocates, digging his nails into the flesh of the redhead's shoulders, under his soaked linen button-up.

The universe is silent, the wind has quieted down, the water's rustle is inaudible in their buzzing ears. The sun is vicious, bites their skin. The only sound in the world is the _I love you_ they breathe to each other.

They do not know what their tomorrow is made of, how many rocks the universe is waiting to throw at them, but as of now, when they are the only two humans on earth, when they are two droplets in the ocean, now that their world does not go further than each other's embrace, they are happy.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom) / [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


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